


On Live TV

by Saesama



Series: 28xFirst Kiss Combo [28]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Celebrities, First Kiss, M/M, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crowd roars and Dave looks amused and determined. "I'll show you a publicity stunt," he vows like a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Live TV

The awards ceremony is going well.

The producers took two huge risks with the show. One was sound and music; you, known for eccentricity and not always playing by the rules. The other was the choice of host; Dave Strider, Hollywood's new favorite face.

It's kind of weird. Dude is a producer, not an actor, but his ass is as hunted as a Kardashian. And you happen to know that he's a fan of yours, and you have your suspicions about the origin of his iconic sunglasses.

You chase 'Best Comedic Female' off the stage with a remix of her sex scene from that movie and the crowd erupts into whoops and cheers and laughs and she's laughing, too. Dave Strider walks out and you switch over to _bow-chika-bow-wow_ porno music and his amused smirk pulls one of your own to your lips. "Ladies and gentlethings," he says, gesturing up at your perch above the main stage. "How about a round of applause for our musical maestro, the elusive Timaeus!"

The lights come up on your booth and you obligingly scratch a record, tilting your head so that your hat shadows your face; you might be in a tux, but your hat and shades and gloves are trademark at this point (paperwork went through last year) and like hell you'd leave them behind. You've never even been seen in public (in character) without them.

"You know," Dave continues. "When I heard you'd be here, I asked if we could have a rap-off. You know, famous DJ versus the young buck, going toe to toe, spinning records like fucking tops and blowing minds all up in here but they said the cool would ice over the cameras and the heat would melt the lights and they want the safety deposit back on this place." He turns to look up at you, aviators glinting in the spotlights. "Whadaya think?" he prods. "Can I get a confirmed rain-check on testing my shit against the Sultan of Spins?"

He's putting you on the spot, the cocky punk. You reach for the mic you had no intention of using when you started out the evening. "As far as publicity stunts go," you drawl. "I'd place it somewhere between Janet Jackson's boobie and making out with Britney Spears."

The crowd roars and Dave looks amused and determined. "I'll show you a publicity stunt," he vows like a challenge. He drops his mic to the stage and sprints towards you and he's halfway up the wall to your booth before you quite realize what he's doing. You're only ten or so feet high and he gets one hand around the edge of the booth and hauls himself up, the toes of his over-priced dress shoes digging into the curtain-covered plywood.

You reach out and grab his shoulder so that he doesn't have to support himself by planting his hand in the middle of your table, and you wonder if you can get away with throwing him back down to the stage if he tries to climb over your gear. He doesn't. His free hand snaps up and knocks off your hat and grabs the back of your head and this is a _much_ better alternative.

You grab his lapel and meet his kiss evenly and he's surprised, probably that you didn't deck him and the crowd _screams_. You wouldn't have thought that two men making out on live TV would get such good ratings, but the disgusted booing is more than drowned out. Dave lets you go with a grin and you let him go with a smirk and he drops back down to the stage. He's all composure as he struts back to his dropped mic but you can see his hand shake as he straightens his collar and _the fucker stole your hat_.

He puts it on and picks up the mic and his grin up at you is straight-up daring. " _That's_ a publicity stunt," he crows, and the audience tears the roof off.

He wears it on and off for the rest of the night.


End file.
